


I Meant No Harm

by solonggaybowser



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, Gen, Pre-Canon, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8279824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solonggaybowser/pseuds/solonggaybowser
Summary: Scenes from the lives of two friends in high school.





	1. Junior

**Author's Note:**

> i was trying to reconcile a bunch of clashing headcanons and i accidentally wrote a fic.  
> (i phoned in the title; dont think about it too hard)

If his strategy was to intimidate Sam into losing before the match even started, well, it worked.

With his black boots and leather jacket, a red streak through his black hair, a stare to send basilisks running—he was the kind of person Sam had seen often on TV or whatever, but never expected to meet in real life.

Their eyes weren't far from level, but Sam could swear he towered at least a foot above him.

They sat down and took their controllers; Sam barely felt his in his hands. He thought he was doing pretty good in this tournament, but now he found himself mistiming every hit, rolling into attacks, grabbing at nothing. It was over, fast.

At least the challenger didn't even flinch upon shaking Sam's sweaty hand. At least. "Good game," he said. And then he was gone.

* * *

On the third day of school, in the middle of lunch, Sam blanked for a critical second on where his locker was and took a wrong turn behind the science building, where it should have been quiet and empty—except someone was there, leaning on the wall, reading a book.

Dressed in black, with a stony gaze.

Seeing him a second time, out in the open, on a high school campus just like any regular teen, Sam didn't think he looked so scary now. In fact, he was thrilled to see a familiar face. "Hey! You're that guy who beat me in last week's tourney!"

There was no reaction until a full two seconds after Sam finished speaking. Then he turned his head, very slightly, enough to look Sam over. "Yeah. I am," he said at last.

"How far did you get?"

"I lost the final."

"Wow! You're really good."

"I just play a lot. And I watch the pros play."

"Oh, so you're like, into the meta, huh? Hmm... I don't think any of my mains are high tier, so maybe that did it."

"You know," he said, closing his book and actually looking at Sam. "It's interesting you should say that..."

* * *

The warning bell chimed: seven minutes to next class.

"Oh, man! We better go. It was nice talking to you!"

"Yeah."

"Oh! By the way, I'm Sam! I'm just a freshman, hehe. What's your name?"

"Sebastian."

"Really? Wow, that's cool!"

"Uh." That was a reaction he hadn't seen in a while. He struggled to remember how to respond. "Yeah. It's all right."

Sam grinned; he really did look like a freshman. "See you later, Sebastian!"

And he meant it.

* * *

It took until the fourth consecutive day of Sam eagerly trotting up to his new friend at the start of lunch, that Sebastian began to suspect this was going to be a regular thing—and it would be unconscionable not to try to stop it.

"Hi, Sebastian!"

"Hi." He held up a hand before Sam could continue. "Look. Don't take this the wrong way. But don't you have anything better to do than hang out with a delinquent junior?"

"Huh? Um..." Sam scratched his head, frowning thoughtfully. "Not really, honestly. I just moved here last summer... so I don't exactly have a lot of friends here." He grinned up at Sebastian again. "Besides, I like talking to you! I never had anyone to talk about games with before."

"Thanks," Sebastian replied, after a beat of silence. "But... I won't be around forever. You should try to make some friends in your own year."

"Yeah, I know... It's just kinda tough."

"Yeah. It is." Sebastian looked off into the distance. "But I think you can do it."

Sam's eyes lit up. "You believe in me, huh? Thanks!"

* * *

"So why do you dress like that? I mean, it's cool! But why?"

Sebastian vented a sigh as discreetly as he could. At least Sam liked it, he supposed. "I don't know. I just do."

"So you're not, like, in a biker gang?"

"No. I'm not."

"Or a heavy metal band?"

"No."

"A, um, goth... team?"

"No."

Sam considered these answers carefully; Sebastian wondered if he'd figure it out. "So you're a real lone wolf, huh? That _rules_."

He did—and had the entirely wrong opinion on it. "I... Yeah. It does."

* * *

"I think you should play it for yourself. I'll bring in my copy tomorrow."

"Oh! You'd really do that?"

"Sure. It's not like I'm doing anything with—"

"Lee."

A tense silence fell upon them. Sebastian turned, with clomping footsteps, to glare at whichever teacher had busted him this time.

They were unmoved. "Don't you have business elsewhere?"

He sighed a sigh that was half a growl, but took his backpack and left without a word.

The teacher spoke again as Sam watched Sebastian leave. "You'd best stay away from that boy. He's a terrible influence."

"Really?" Sam frowned. "But he's good to me."

"He must want something from you. Be careful."

* * *

"That teacher told me you're a bad influence," said Sam, as he walked with Sebastian on a deserted path behind the school. "But... I'm not sure. You seem okay."

"Do I?"

"Yeah! You've been nice to me. You help me with my homework. And you don't say anything bad—um, except for, swears, I guess."

"Hmm."

They reached their destination—though Sam seemed confused. "Hey, isn't this the faculty parking lot? What'd you bring me here for?"

"Oh. Uh." Sebastian took a cursory look around the area. "Oh no, I was going to show you something cool, but it's gone now. Sorry about that."

"Aw, man!"

* * *

One lunch, Sam was a bit late in showing. Sebastian looked in the direction his friend usually arrived from, wondering if something came up at the last minute.

No, there he was now, but talking animatedly with two others. _Good for him. He'll be better off,_ thought Sebastian.

_Wait. Are they looking at me?_

Whatever they saw, it seemed to incite some kind of commotion among them; their voices grew louder and seemed to gain a hostile edge, though they were far enough away that their words were still indistinct. Sebastian watched with growing consternation, wondering if he should intervene.

But soon enough, the two unfamiliar students were leaving. Sam hollered something at them, then stomped over to his usual lunchtime spot next to Sebastian.

"What happened?"

"Ugh! Those jerks don't know what they're talking about!!" Sam huffed. "Did you hear what they were saying?!"

"No."

"They were just—! Saying all sorts of rude stuff, about _you_! Can you believe it?"

"Um." _Yes._

"Well, they're wrong... they're wrong! You're better than them! And I told 'em to screw off!!"

Sam took a moment to catch his breath; Sebastian had never seen him so angry, and it truly seemed to tire him out. "I... I know you said I should make more friends in my own class. But if that's how they're gonna be about someone they don't even know...!"

Sebastian watched Sam sit down against the wall, and then he looked away. "You're all right, Sam," he said suddenly.

Starstruck, Sam looked up at him. It was the first direct compliment he'd received from Sebastian, the coolest person he knew. "You mean it?"

"Yeah. For sure."

* * *

"No way... no way! That's so stupid!"

Sebastian shrugged. "It's the truth," he said simply.

"You really think I'm gonna fall for the _classic_ playground rumor? Hey, you forgot to tell me your uncle works at Nintendo!"

"No, see, that's the thing. At this point, developers know all about this stuff. They know the vintage memes. And you know self-awareness is the big thing right now. _Of course_ they're gonna put this kind of secret in their games."

"Hmm..." Sam considered this carefully. "Well, when you put it that way," he began hesitantly—but at the most critical juncture, a tiny movement caught Sam's eye. "What? Are you smiling? This is a freakin' joke, isn't it?!"

Sebastian's smirk turned into a full grin as he stomped his foot playfully. "Damn! I was so close."

"You can't fool _me_ , you...! You!!" Sam pointed impotently at Sebastian, which only made him break into a chuckle.

And just then, time seemed to slow.

It's incredible how much a genuine smile can change someone's face. Especially for someone like Sebastian, whose expressions up to this point appeared to have been limited to "glower at you" and "glower at something else". But, now... he had told a joke. And he was laughing.

Sam blinked. Sebastian—the best friend he'd made this year, no contest—he had always looked cool, but in that instant he was... more so. But somehow different. Were his eyes always so bright? Or his hair, so vivid? Was his presence always so...?

"Sam? What's wrong?"

Sebastian had stopped smiling, the mirth replaced with concern. Wrenched back into the normal passage of time, Sam blinked again. "Oh, uh, nothing. Guess I must've zoned out for a second. Haha." He struggled to keep his voice and nerves steady.

"Hmm. Well, go home and get some rest."

"I-I will." His mouth was rapidly turning to dust at a very inconvenient moment. "Have a good summer..." A small but crucial breath. "... Sebastian."

"Yeah, you too." Sebastian grabbed his backpack and nodded at Sam. "See you." He started on his way home.

Sam leaned on the wall and tried to collect himself. Three months to see that smile again.


	2. Senior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "oh im gonna write a new fic its gonna be short and ill be done in two weeks tops!!!"
> 
> good gravy

_There he is._ Arms crossed, back against the wall, eyes to the ground.

After a summer of idle daydreams, of infrequent online communications, of working up the nerve, on about a weekly basis, to gaze longingly at the single tiny cell phone photo he had of him—Sam was back at school, here with Sebastian again.

He tried to prepare himself to speak to him, using words, in person, with his face in view. Inhale... exhale... okay. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants; they'd be damp again in a minute but, really, it was a nonissue. But if he was blushing—well, that also might be fine, so long as they stay under the permanent shadow of the science building.

As he came closer, Sebastian nodded to him. _Okay. Be cool. Just like him._ "Hi, Seb."

"Good to see you," said Sebastian after a short pause, possibly to consider what the hell Sam just called him.

Sam hoped there wasn't too much offense; it was just that he didn't trust himself to say more thanone syllable without going into cardiac arrest. "Yeah, you too."

Sebastian stared at Sam, intently and silently—not such an unusual behavior for him, in fact. It was a little more concerning when he stood up straight and looked Sam up and down, frowning. Was he judging his untrimmed hair, his new jacket? The suspense was too much. "Uh... what's up?" Sam dared to ask.

"... Nothing. You're just taller now." Sebastian finally turned away. "I suppose it was bound to happen eventually."

It was true: Sam had been creeping up to Sebastian's height all through last year, and now that summer had passed, Sebastian was the one tilting his head upward, however slightly, for conversational eye contact (on the rare occasion he made eye contact at all).

And it seemed he was kind of sore about it. "Aw, that's fine." Sam reassured him. "You, you're still cool."

"Heh." He brushed his bangs out of his face. They fell back down almost immediately. "Um, thanks."

* * *

On a conscious level, Sam was well aware it wouldn't work out.

For one thing, Sebastian would turn 18 in a fairly short amount of time. There was no getting around that. For another, he would graduate the following spring and go out to do whatever.

Well, maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd stick around for three more years. Then maybe...

It was a tiny and stupid and terribly shaky hope, but it was enough to cling onto.

* * *

Cling onto and do all sorts of ill-advised things with.

"Hey Seb, you ever date anyone?" What could he _possibly_ need this information for.

"No."

_Really?_ thought Sam. _Strong, silent guy like you?_ "Why not?"

Sebastian was quiet. He turned, very slowly, to Sam. On his face was the usual scowl—which, Sam had figured out, was merely his neutral expression, but under these circumstances felt more like a death glare than ever. The seconds ticked by; Sam almost worried Sebastian was somehow reading his mind and unraveling his motive.

Then Sebastian said at last, "I honestly don't have an answer." And right after, "I gotta piss. Be right back."

So he was single. There was absolutely no good reason for Sam to have learned this; he couldn't do a damn thing to act on it, and it was far from guaranteed to hold true in a few years. But it fueled his imagination all the same.

* * *

"Okay, I think I get it now. Man, when you put it like that, it sounds so obvious!"

"Yeah, well, no one here can teach math worth a damn."

"No kidding. Thanks, Seb!" But two lines of equations later, Sam was confused again. "Hey, hang on. Didn't you tell me once you failed stats?"

"... Yeah."

"You're really good at it, though!"

"I didn't do the work."

"Why not? It was easy for you, right?"

"Well..." Sebastian rubbed at his neck. "Well, I... I guess I was just... I don't remember."

"Oh. Um. Okay."

* * *

Sebastian had always been a taciturn guy; Sam knew that. He was used to the pauses between responses, the aversion towards eye contact, the awkward silences that, by now, didn't feel so uncomfortable. But today was a bit much: he was speaking only a few words at a time, each batch ending in an ellipsis.

It frustrated Sam. He wanted to keep talking, to hear the voice he'd waiting all morning for, and he was scraping for topics.

"College apps are due soon, aren't they?"

Sebastian nodded, once.

"Where're you applying to?"

"I don't know." He grimaced, and it wasn't just his regular face this time. "It's a waste of time. I'm not gonna get in anywhere."

His flashes of anger were always a little unnerving, as if proving he ought to be feared after all. But they were just flashes, and never directed at Sam. "Well, you don't know until you try, right?"

"Yeah, whatever," he grunted, and Sam finally thought to back off.

* * *

Fourth period ran late. Sam hurried to meet Sebastian as usual—and slowed when he was in sight. He was in his usual pose, but his head hung low and from this angle his hair obscured his face.

Uncertain and uneasy, Sam approached him; he didn't react. Then Sam circled around him, to try to get a better read.

_Oh, good. He's just asleep._

"Seb?" Nothing. Sam took a deep breath, and grabbed Sebastian's shoulder, shaking him gently. "Hey, Seb."

Sebastian started awake at the touch. "Huh, wha—... uh. Hi."

"You must be pretty tired."

"Been sleeping like shit... what's the time?"

"Uh, 12:18."

"Okay. I'm gonna go buy a coffee."

"Oh, you're... leaving?" Sam tried not to look so disappointed.

"Yeah." He didn't do a very good job of it. "Oh. Right, you can't come, huh. You want anything?"

Mostly he just wanted to spend time with his friend again. "No, I'm good."

Apparently unconvinced, Sebastian regarded him carefully. "I'll get you some donut holes. How does that sound?"

He was trying to make up for it. That counted for something. "Thanks, Seb."

* * *

He returned with a small paper bag, which he passed to Sam, and a frighteningly large cup of coffee. Sam opened the bag and smiled. A half dozen maple glaze. "You remembered my favorite."

"Yeah."

And for half a second, Sebastian also smiled. Maybe things weren't so bad.

* * *

In no hurry to return to history class, where an unspeakably boring documentary awaited him, Sam took a scenic detour after leaving the restroom.

He rounded a corner and was somewhat surprised to see Sebastian, standing not too far off, his back nearly to Sam. What was he doing standing around outside of class?

As Sam made his way over, he got a better view of him: he had something between his fingers, and he brought it to his mouth and—

"Seb!! Are you smoking?! Where'd you get that?"

Sebastian could only stare at first, the horror on his face nearly matching Sam's. "Sam, you... I... I bought it. With my money... I'm 18, you know. Nothing about this is illegal. Okay, fine, I shouldn't smoke on campus. Fuck this school, though."

"But... why? Don't you know what smoking does to you? You're poisoning yourself!"

Almost inaudibly, Sebastian hissed, "Good."

"... What?"

"Nothing."

There was silence as Sebastian picked up the soda can by his feet and took a drink. Sam, feeling bewildered and upset and oddly betrayed, struggled to find the words.

"Seb... I'm scared."

Sebastian wouldn't even look in his direction—not unusual, but in this situation it felt weightier than ever. "Are you scared of me?"

"I... I don't know. You're changing."

He drank again, and sighed quietly. "I'm still your friend, Sam. That won't change."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Definitely." He dropped his cigarette into his soda and the soda into the trash. "You better go back to class."

* * *

Sam took a good look at Sebastian, who had to rest his eyes for a bit. It pained him to look for too long.

Not that Sebastian had become any less beautiful, of course. But the dark circles under his eyes grew more prominent by the day, and he didn't hold up his shoulders with the same self-assurance that he used to. He might've been sick, with how fatigued he always looked.

"You don't look so good these days, Seb. Is there something wrong?"

Sebastian kept his eyes closed. "No," he muttered.

"Are you sure?"

"... Yeah."

* * *

He wished he didn't have to see Sebastian like that.

Lunch used to be his favorite part of the day, by far. Now he dreaded them. Sometimes he considered not showing at all, but he always held out hope that his friend's regular cool self would return.

* * *

Sebastian spoke first, for the first time in weeks. He was standing, backpack still on. "I can't come here anymore."

"What? What do you mean?"

"I have work. I'm going to be busy during lunch the rest of the year." He paused, looking about nervously. "I... I actually needed to leave now. I'm not supposed to be here. But you should know this, at the very least?"

"So... what, you're just... not coming back?"

"I don't have time. I'm sorry."

"You told me we're still friends! You told me that wouldn't change!!"

"Sam. Please. I'm failing. If I don't start this make-up work now, I can't... They're not gonna let me graduate. And I fucking swear, if I have to spend a minute longer in this shithole than I have to, I'll—" He cut himself off, and sighed. "I have to go. I'm sorry."

He turned and left without another word, as he moved his hand to cover his face.

* * *

The next day, Sam went down to the usual spot after fourth period. _Maybe it was just a bad dream._

He waited all lunch, alone.

* * *

He thought he had come to terms with it the day after, but his feet seemed to lead him there again of their own accord.

This time he was reluctant to linger; it sank in how empty it was without Sebastian's presence, quiet but strong.

Well... he wasn't so strong anymore.

* * *

With each day, it got a little easier to leave. He always had to check though. He missed him, and maybe when the work was finished, he would finally, truly have his friend back.

* * *

_It's the last week of school. He's gotta be done by now. He_ has _to come back._

He did not.

* * *

_Does it really come down to the last day?_

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Sam leaned against the wall and stared into the distance, as Sebastian would. _How bad was this?_

He never got it, why Sebastian became so unwell: he wasn't taking any advanced classes or doing extracurriculars, and he was in fine health, exhaustion notwithstanding. But it didn't matter _why_ , just that he _did_. He did and Sam did nothing.

Some part of him had secretly hoping Sebastian would fail and spend another year with him, but he would've just been like this again, if not worse. He really did need to get out of here.

* * *

It didn't occur to Sam to buy a ticket to commencement until the opportunity had expired and he was fuming outside just outside the football field that he couldn't get one at the door. He _had_ to be there, to see if Sebastian would graduate, to talk to him once more. The people guarding the gate were unmoved.

(At least they gave him a program, which ended up being of no help at all: Sam recalled that "Sebastian" was only a nickname but never could coax his real first name out of him, so even if he was on the list of graduates, he couldn't be distinguished from the thirteen other people who shared his surname.)

So he waited, forced to endure an awful blend of suspense and boredom. "Pomp and Circumstance", the national anthem, quote unquote inspirational speeches. And he'd have to sit through this shit again in two years—what a nightmare.

When at last they called up the graduates, he didn't see him walk onto the stage and receive his diploma, but he did catch a glimpse of that raven black hair, streaked with red, that he'd recognize anywhere. Sam breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed his shoulders; now he just had to see if they could talk.

* * *

Miraculously, he spotted Sam on his way out. He excused himself from his family and made his way through the crowd.

It was almost surreal to see Sebastian again, after so long separated. Sam had some rudiments of a speech prepared, but all he could manage in the moment was, "Hey."

"Hey." He must have noticed Sam looking him over, in his brightly colored gown, and mortarboard and diploma case in hand. "I look pretty stupid, huh?"

"No. You always look cool."

Sebastian just stared at him for a second; several months ago, he might have smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem." There was more to say and Sam wasn't ready, but he had to start now. "So you made it."

"Yeah." Sebastian looked away. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. You worked hard and it paid off." Sam, too, found it hard to look at his friend. "Sorry I got angry."

"I deserved it."

"What? That's not true."

"I tried to be your friend but I let you down. And maybe if I'd gotten my shit together sooner... you wouldn't have..."

"Seb, I... I let you down too. I really did... I wish it didn't turn out this way."

"Yeah." Gentle, but profoundly resigned.

"Get some rest, Seb."

He nodded. "Sam... good luck."

"You too."

And that was all.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading. i promise i haven't forgotten about blackbox. it'll happen when it happens


End file.
